


Jealousy, the Green eyed monster (AKA mycroft)

by sherlocked221



Series: Cute(ish) Mystrade [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mycroft Being Mycroft, Mycroft Being a Bastard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 21:03:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1442767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlocked221/pseuds/sherlocked221
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finally, Lestrade had dragged his lover to one of his favorite sports bars. Mycroft hates this sort of thing. He only cares about not being seen, until a young bartender gets a bit too friendly.</p><p>(By the way, Thank you to all those people that read my other Mystrade Fanfic and got it up to 1000+ hits. I keep to my word, so here's your shiny new fanfic about the two we love so much!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We don't do this often enough.

“Wow! We don't do this often enough do we?” Lestrade exclaimed as he took another gulp of his frothing beer and stared wide-eyed at the telly. Mycroft sat, hunched over the bar, trying to hide his face in case Sherlock should turn up. He rolled his eyes and sat up straighter so he could sip the foul burning alcohol in front of him. The only comfort he had in this loud bar full on sport goons that never played any of them, was his umbrella, tucked firmly under his coat. He held it tightly and close to him as if it was his lover’s muscular arm.  
“We shouldn’t have done it at all.” He mumbled, pulling his dark coat around him further. Lestrade pretended he hadn’t heard his lover grumbling about spending time with him, again. It was too tiring and no matter how many times Mycroft would put on that act as if he enjoyed this all, this was never going to happen again. Was it really to much to ask that he hadn’t fallen in love with such a stuck up, classy arse. Not that he didn’t love Mycroft to bits… It was just that, he’d always thought he’d end up with a nice girl, clinging to his arm and planting sweet kisses on his lips when ever she’d have the chance. Instead, he’d fallen in love with a rich man with no experience in loving someone other then himself. But then there was a lot of evidence that Mycroft may not love himself as much as he loved anything. He did not understand love and neither could he. Well that was Lestrade’s view anyway.

“Do you want another?” The giggly bartender asked, flaunting her chest as she bent over the counter. Lestrade smiled and shook his head politely, but she wouldn’t leave him alone.   
“Want some crisps?” She asked, leaning further over and touching his arm flirtatiously. Mycroft, for once, felt jealous as his lover began talking to the girl as if he was single. The girl brought over a crimson packet of Pringles and whispered a ‘on the house, just for you.’  
“Do you mind!” Mycroft finally burst out, his umbrella hitting the ground with a mighty bang that made the bartender jump backwards into a shelf. She quietly went on to serve someone else, giving him a threatening evil eye.  
“What was that?” Lestrade exclaimed trying to be as quiet as possible so the girl couldn’t hear. Mycroft didn’t answer, just requested they’d go and find somewhere else to have a drink. 

But then again Mycroft’s places to drink were all posh and full of people like him. Lestrade agreed reluctantly and they strode out into the street.  
“So what was that exactly?” He continued to interrogate his lover. Mycroft continued to change the subject but Lestrade took him down a dirty backstreet and cornered him against two buildings.  
“I don’t know. I just saw that girl with you and… it felt wrong.” He explained, still holding tight to his umbrella for comfort. Lestrade’s face turned from inquisitive to a knowing smile, one which unnerved Mycroft.  
“You got jealous because I was talking to someone other then you. And you thought that girl was going to try and ask me out. Wow Mycroft, I never knew you cared!” He laughed and stepped back to let his lover past.   
“I don’t… well… I do but I…” Mycroft stuttered as they began to make their way back to a main road.  
Neither of them said another word after that because they just wanted another drink, something to take the edge off this suddenly awkward situation (even though it was meant to be a fun time)


	2. We Shouldn't have done it at all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There had to be somewhere better then the bar that Lestrade favored and the posh restaurant Mycroft loved.

Eventually, Mycroft nagged his lover to get a taxi and they ended up outside a posh restaurant with Mycrofts's umbrella sheltering them both from the sudden storm.  
"No." Lestrade refused before Mycroft had even taken a step towards the door.  
"I'm not going in there. You can see already they're giving me dirty looks. Please Myc, can we go some place else?"  
Mycroft looked despairingly to the soaked pavement then back up into Lestrade's pleading eyes. How could he say no? But then again, how could he say yes? Every place Lestrade wanted to go was full of loud idiots that didn't care what drink they got, they just wanted to get drunk. In Mycroft's opinion, where they stood outside was a classy place to eat with people that knew what they wanted and that was a romantic dinner and some good food. Was it really to much to ask?  
In Lestrade's case, yes. The lovers were opposite sides of the stick and it would be too difficult for just one of them to be the bigger. So neither of them were going to be. Instead, they stood in the cold, wet outside with one of them looking desperately inside and the other trying to find a cab.  
"This is crazy Mycroft! We have to decide where the hell we are going!" Lestrade exclaimed as yet another taxi rolled past him. A bolt of lightning then lit up the sky in a orangey hue and a clap of thunder made them both jump.  
"I know somewhere that not only does amazing food but also you'll love it." Mycroft announced and caught sight of a taxi across the road.

Finally out of the thundering storm, Lestrade sighed and collapsed on a beige leather sofa in Mycroft's sizable mansion of a house. A small glass of ruby red wine was past to him and the giant flatscreen TV turned on without the remote control.  
"Like you ever watch TV. What do you have it for?" Lestrade asked as his lover joined him happily on the sofa with the control in his hand.  
"Decoration mostly but I do like some programs." Mycroft explained looking proudly around his room. Lestrade shook his head and smiled. There were of course some perks of loving a classy arse. He switch onto some sports and they both just sat there, silently enjoying the company of on another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my Mystrade Fic's seem to end up back in Mycroft's place. You could just imagine the sheer size and 'Grandness' of it.  
> Yes or No to carry on?


End file.
